Flipping her over

Her grip on his hair loosened, her hands slipping free as she collapsed back onto the cushions, panting heavily.

Her chest rose and fell in uneven bursts, her skin flushed with heat and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat.

She felt utterly spent, her limbs heavy as if they'd been forged from lead.

Alex finally rose from his position between her thighs, his face gleaming with the evidence of her climax.

Her juices coated his skin, catching the dim light of the room, and a mischievous grin spread across his lips as he met her gaze.

Syrla, too exhausted to muster words, forced a weary smile in response.

Her eyelids fluttered, half-closed, as she tried to catch her breath.

The air between them was thick with the musky scent of her release, mingling with the faint tang of exertion.

Alex peeled off his shirt in one fluid motion, revealing the lean lines of his torso, and used the fabric to wipe his face clean.